


Flight

by Kirsten



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Escape, Fear, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28391241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirsten/pseuds/Kirsten
Summary: Uhtred knew they could not remain in Aegelesburg.
Relationships: Finan/Uhtred of Bebbanburg
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Response to a 2-hour writing challenge from SolarLotus: two hours to write something in response to a text or image prompt. Image prompt for this fic can be found here: https://i.ytimg.com/vi/jIccZ5vFmn0/maxresdefault.jpg
> 
> Thanks to SolarLotus for the fun challenge! And sorry to the person whose photo that is. :D

Uhtred knew they could not remain in Aegelesburg. He shoved a silver cross into Finan’s hands. “Horses and food,” he said, already turning away. “I will find the boy. We must leave.”

He hurried away to the alehouse, where he was sure to find Sihtric and Osferth, and hopefully Aethelstan. They had been pursued Winchester to Readingum, but he had thought that Mercia’s borders might protect them. And so they had; their pursuers had slowed and then vanished, and Uhtred had thought to rest within Aegelesburg’s walls. He had thought that Aethelflaed’s power and influence would protect them.

But he was wrong.

Aethelflaed was a child of Alfred’s court, and the links between Winchester and Aegelesburg were strong. It seemed the assassins had abandoned speed for stealth and effectiveness. Uhtred would need to fear more and trust less; he could not rely upon familiar faces and places for their safety. He would abandon all comforts, for they needed to chart a new path, and travel only through places where they were not known.

Sihtric and Osferth were in the alehouse, and Aethelstan was with them, thank the gods. The boy was trying to climb up Osferth’s chest and onto his shoulders. He was drunk, as was Osferth, but that was no matter. Uhtred would subdue him with his sword pommel and carry him if it was required, and Osferth could be relied upon to sober himself.

“Sihtric,” he called over the rabble, and Sihtric looked immediately in his direction. He got to his feet, no doubt alarmed by the blood that streaked down Uhtred’s face, and Osferth caught his concern and stood also.

“Lord! What has happened?”

“Aethelhelm sends assassins,” said Uhtred. “Finan is fetching horses and food, we leave now.”

“But Uhtred,” Aethelstan protested.

“Now,” Uhtred repeated sternly. He raised his voice a little, and alehouse patrons around him shrank from him, and Osferth grabbed Aethelstan by his tunic and dragged him towards the exit, Sihtric close behind. Sihtric’s hand was on his seax and his face was grim.

Uhtred spotted Finan immediately. Finan had found them four fresh horses, good strong mares, and Uhtred ran to him and immediately mounted. “Aethelstan rides with you,” he said to Finan, who immediately groaned.

“The boy is a bag of bones,” Finan complained. “You try riding with his elbows poking into your belly.”

Uhtred rolled his eyes and turned on his horse to make sure his men were ready. Finan practically threw Aethelstan onto his horse’s back and then climbed on himself, and Sihtric and Osferth steadied their beasts. Osferth looked a little green in the face; well, thought Uhtred, it would teach him not to indulge so heavily before their work was done, and he urged his horse into motion through the gates of Aegelesburg, out into the wildness of Mercia.

He set a savage pace. He wanted to be miles from anywhere before their pursuers even noticed that they had gone. He did not look back, simply trusted his men to keep up and follow him, and his horse fairly ate up the distance until Aegelesburg was out of sight. 

They were headed north. He kept them at it for as long as their horses could bear it, until darkness fell and a full moon rose above them. They made a rough camp under a large, old oak, and they ate the bread and drank a little of the ale that Finan had bought with Uhtred’s silver. Aethelstan had sickened on the road, and now he slept with his head on Finan’s knee, exhausted by the day’s events and not a little hungover.

Uhtred kept watch while the rest of them slept, and again the next night, even though tiredness blurred his vision. Finan had protested, but Uhtred silenced him with a look, for he could not yet bring himself to sleep. It was beyond him, when his heart leapt at every crackling twig, every whispering wind, and his muscles ached with tension. It would be impossible to sleep. So he propped himself up against a tree with a skein of water and a hunk of salted beef, and he knew that Finan’s eyes did not leave him until Finan himself drifted off into slumber.

By the third day, Uhtred had slackened their pace, and they proceeded at a steady rate over the hills and through the valleys of Mercia’s northern borders. He thought they were reasonably close to Legeceaster, and if that were true, they had perhaps crossed into Daneland. It was a risk, for he was the hated Dane-slayer and he travelled with a future king of Saxons, but so too were the Saxon kingdoms. Mercia, Wessex, Cumbraland, Northumbria – Uhtred was known in all, and by now word had no doubt spread of Aethelstan’s presence in his group. The boy was his cross to bear, as Beocca might have said, and Uhtred scowled up at the overcast sky in frustration, slumped in his saddle.

Finan appeared alongside him and leaned across to murmur in his ear. “Uhtred, you must rest.”

Uhtred glanced at him and saw that Aethelstan was not with him. “Where is the boy?”

“He rides with Osferth today,” said Finan. “Osferth is teaching him his letters,” and Uhtred twisted in his seat to look back at them. Aethelstan indeed appeared to be reading a book, pointing to words which Osferth then helped him to pronounce. Uhtred often forgot that Osferth had benefited from a near-royal education and was at heart a scholar. Why he still rode with them, Uhtred could not fathom.

“As long as it’s not the Bible,” Uhtred said, and Finan smiled at him.

“We can camp over there,” he said, and he pointed away to the east. Uhtred looked in that direction and saw steep banks that offered shelter from the wind and a nearby stream that offered fresh water. They were nowhere near a road and the place appeared deserted, so he nodded his assent.

Finan sent Osferth, Sihtric and Aethelstain to the stream to fetch water and see if there were any fish to be had, while Uhtred climbed the banks that broke the northern breezes. When he reached the top, he could see for miles around. There was not another soul in sight. No smoke on the horizon, no scent of unwashed armies. No cheers and shouts carried on the wind. He sighed and felt his shoulders drop; perhaps he would finally be able to rest tonight.

Finan appeared at his side without warning, but Uhtred was not alarmed by his sudden arrival. He had known Finan for half his life; Finan was too familiar and too welcome to ever startle him.

“This place was surely a fortress,” Finan marvelled, looking out at the country. 

“You could never be surprised by an enemy here,” Uhtred agreed.

Finan sat and pulled Uhtred down to sit beside him. Uhtred could sacrifice anything, leave behind everything known and familiar and rebuild his life yet again, as long as he did not have to give up this greatest of comforts: Finan, fierce and unfailing beside him. Finan’s arm was steady when it wrapped around Uhtred’s shoulders, and his body was strong against Uhtred’s side when Finan dragged him close enough to rest their heads together.

“You have driven us hard since we left Aegelesburg.” Finan’s voice was quiet, without ire; it was not a complaint, Uhtred knew, but it was concern – for him, and him alone. Finan was so good to him.

How to answer his unspoken question? Uhtred let his head drop further until he rested on Finan’s shoulder, and Finan’s hand came up to fondle his hair. 

“I fear for the boy,” he said at last.

Finan scoffed. “That is not your fear,” he said. “You fear that you will be unable to protect him, as you were unable to protect your own children from Alfred, your son from your cousin.”

“He is Edward’s son,” Uhtred said. His voice shook, for that was at the heart of it, along with his fear of the consequence of failure: that he would not be able to protect his men, or Finan, or himself, if Aethelstan should die in his charge. “His death would mean nothing good for us,” he added, and he could picture it all too clearly: his men arrested and executed, Finan gone, he himself kept alive until the end to witness it all. Edward was a good man, but a vengeful one when his children were threatened. Uhtred could not blame him for it.

Finan took his hand and kissed it. “That will not happen,” he said. “You will protect him, as will Sihtric and Osferth.” 

He said it with such confidence that Uhtred could not help but believe him. “And you will protect me,” Uhtred whispered, for after so many years together he knew precisely what Finan would say next.

“Aye,” said Finan, and he dragged Uhtred’s head up to stare into his eyes. “I will,” he vowed, and Uhtred found himself abruptly, deeply kissed.


End file.
